


Reach Out

by scorpiobabylon



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Ass to Mouth, Blow Jobs, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Nightmares, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 18:39:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiobabylon/pseuds/scorpiobabylon
Summary: Will wakes from a nightmare and has spontaneous phone sex with Hannibal.





	Reach Out

Will awoke violently, still vocalizing mid-scream. He bolted upright and blinked around wildly at the cozy dark of his little farmhouse, panting and gasping. His environment did not at all match his elevation, and it pained him to see the outlines of the sleepy dogs he’d woken up with his yelling. Snow fell gently outside. As reality bled back in, he found his sleep-shirt too hot and yanked it over his head.

Will leaned over to pick up the towel he kept by the bed for just this reason, then flopped back down against his pillow to calm down. He’d stopped denying that the nightmares were getting worse the night he started keeping a dry towel close by. He wiped it against his face, abdomen still heaving with labored breath. He felt like he was burning up from the inside, like a menagerie of animals made of fire were chittering and screeching and banging against the reverberating walls of his body.

His palms ached like he’d been squeezing the trigger in the Hobbs house, blowing holes through a monster which wouldn’t die like Hobbs, but got closer and closer until Will could smell nothing but the blood leaking from its maw, which was open wide and coming down all around him. He couldn’t hear himself, couldn’t make a single sound right up until he regained consciousness by the alarm of his own screams. It wasn’t real. Will’s body was thrumming as if it had been real.

He took stock of his boxer shorts, to see if they'd been soaked through too. His trembling hand found his dick hard, trapped in his waistband and smearing against his belly. He muttered incoherently against the bath towel on his face, pulling it off to look down at himself with resigned acceptance. Was it the monster, or the shooting of it? Was it that it that it was gonna eat him? Huh. He huffed out of his nostrils, idly thinking about a different kind of getting eaten. His cock twitched.

Will held the dry towel to his chest and looked to the clock on his dresser-- only 1AM. He blinked wearily at his phone. Hannibal had told him that afternoon that he should feel free to reach out. He hesitated only momentarily. Hannibal had promised to be his anchor, and if he didn't pick up, he'd just go back to sleep.

Will lifted his cell-phone, heart still pounding, idly rubbing circles against his chest with the towel as he tapped Hannibal's contact and listened to the line ring. His thumping heartbeat went shallow when he heard the click on the other end.

He'd just fumbled in the dark and sought Hannibal. He hadn't planned this far.

"Doctor. I know it's late." Will croaked into the darkness of his room. He sucked in an inhale, then, informed by his erection, added, "What are you wearing?"

“Red linen pajama pants.” The answer came immediately.

Will hummed in consideration, picturing it. Deep red fabric. Bare feet, then, too, bare middle.

He extrapolated, in that jumping way that he did, what Hannibal looked like without a shirt. Chest hair, definitely. Course, but not so thick that it clouded the musculature underneath. He was definitely strong; lean, but sturdy. Masculine. He'd seen Hannibal in a vest that poked out around his middle, suggesting something extra in the belly area. Will pictured defined muscles, moving while Hannibal breathed, beneath just a little fat. Maybe some slight give around the handles. Some indication of his extravagance, of how well he ate.

Will's cock was throbbing, so he adjusted it in his shorts. He left his hand there, just to hold himself.

He almost just dropped into sleep, but Hannibal asked, “Are you alright, Will?” and his own disembodied voice answered, "another nightmare. Didn't leave my house this time, I'm not calling for a favor or a ride." He came back to himself as he went on, chewing around his words in a vocal fry, "Just to talk."

He laughed humorlessly, then, expecting to be shut down very soon. "Do you want to know what I'm wearing?"

Will heard a soft chuckle, and warmed to it, his own grin turning fond. “What are you wearing?” Hannibal played along.

Will sighed, relieved at the encouragement he received to go further. There was slight trepidation, he still wasn't stroking himself, but he was so eager to play. He'd initiated this, and it wasn't like him to just bow out as soon as it became real, especially when Hannibal was involved. His new favorite companion when it came to implicit dares. "Just shorts. I... Sweat through my undershirt." He told him, kneading the towel between his fingers as he considered how to ask permission without breaking the spell. Will adjusted his pillows against the headboard so he could lean comfortably while he spoke to Hannibal, clarifying outright, "does that interest you?"

“Yes. Are you touching yourself?”

"Oh.” Will gasped. “Yes.” He said as he finally began stroking himself through his shorts. His cock was hot and heavy in his hand, the contact making him groan. “You were in my dream," He went on, conscious it was a lie, but more deeply conscious that it wasn't. Something about the shadow in his dream was being linked with Hannibal, but not in any way which he could extrapolate to mean anything concrete. "And... It... Turned me on," That was true. Even as it didn't align perfectly with the circumstances surrounding it, that was fully true.

Will had already told Hannibal it was a nightmare he'd awoken from. He’d leave it to him to connect the dots. Will wasn't in the mood to fully comprehend the messages of his unconscious, eager only to act on them.

“What was it that turned you on?” Hannibal asked.

“Your mouth.” Will croaked, then repeated, “your mouth.”

“Was I sucking your cock?”

“I’d like that. God.” Will’s cheek was smooshed up against his cellphone as he rolled his thumb over the head of his weeping cock, consumed by the vivid image of Hannibal Lecter on his knees, flush lips around him and while they locked eyes, shameless. The view of the top of Hannibal’s hair, his strong shoulders, his cock disappearing into his waiting mouth. “Oh, my god.”

“I’ve wondered,” Hannibal’s voice sounded slightly above what qualified as ‘calm’ for the first time in their conversation, and it had Will biting his lip and whining to hear more. “what you taste like. What you sound like, coming apart under my tongue. May I try other parts of you? ”

“You wanna eat my ass?” The image of Hannibal sucking him off melted, and was replaced by that perfect mouth dragging lower. Lapping over his hole, tongue pushing inside and working magic.

“Please.”

“Be my guest. Oh.” Will wanted to finger himself, now, but he was already so close to the edge and needed to hold his phone. He fisted his cock, jerking himself off with such outrageous enthusiasm that he wondered if Hannibal could hear the obscene ffp-ffp-ffp-ffp-ffp.

Hannibal groaned on the other line, and it sent Will right over the edge. He sputtered as he shot semen against his trembling belly, babbling, “Y-You want to eat me out, Hannibal? Y-- w--.. Huhh--”

“Yes.” Hannibal’s voice was strained, goading Will on even as he came down from his own orgasm.

“I love a service top. Is that what you’re getting off on?” Will’s smile was relaxed now that his dick stopped aching, able to really have fun with this. He idly rubbed his cum against his hip, circling it with his fingers “Pleasing me?”

“Yes.”

“You wanna eat my hole and make me beg for you?”

“I--...” Hannibal couldn't get a full sentence out.

“Would you fuck me? Once I’m desperate for it?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes, I’d be so good to you-- Will--”

“You fuck good, Hannibal?” Will had to laugh, imagining someone he’d never in anything but a three-piece suit absolutely debased like this.

“Will.” Was Hannibal’s quiet plea for mercy.

“I want you. I want you to fuck me.”

There was silence on the other line, and Will was left alone for a stretch of seconds, briefly imagining he may wake up a second time, victim to a double fake-out, and then Hannibal was gasping and groaning, orgasming an hour and a half away. Will moaned softly, Hannibal's voice making his ears prickle and his heart pound.

Will rolled over, and reached out for his imagination. Hannibal, red linen pajama pants down around his thighs, still gripping his cock, panting and staring at Will like he hung the moon.

Will shut his eyes.

“Hannibal.”

“Yes, Will?”

“I can fall asleep again, now. Thank you.”

“Anytime." Then, "Goodnight, Will.”

"Night, doctor." Will peeled the phone from his cheek, ending the call and regarding the sweat-slick device with mild disgust. He discarded it on the dresser and dropped into easy sleep.

He didn’t scream when the monster came for him, this time. Showed his own sharp teeth in a welcoming smile before he was swallowed.


End file.
